Pieces of Her Heart
by SkylaraK
Summary: Booth twirled the dolphin around in his fingers as he spoke, and for a moment, it was almost as if his lovely partner was in his arms. And he knew that Brennan’s sharing of these pieces of herself was her way of asking him to wait for her. BB. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I wished upon all the stars in the sky tonight, but Bones still isn't mine.

All dialogue herein (and most of the actions, if truth be told) are from the Bones episode, "The Killer in the Concrete." I didn't write a whit of it and can't take credit. The only thing that's mine is the interpretation.

I'd like to thank the exceedingly wonderful amo from the official Bones message boards over at Fox's website for this idea, and for letting me steal it.

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The air in the diner was a little too warm, and Booth's coffee was a little too cool. Despite the painkillers he had been given in the hospital, his head was still throbbing with pain, and the bandage on his leg itched maddeningly. His bed called to him, and his body wanted nothing more than to sink between cool sheets, to let sleep ease away his memories of the hangar. But his partner had asked him to have a quick coffee in the diner, and he always had trouble refusing her.

He sat quietly for a while, content to let her sort things out in her head before speaking. He knew she was preoccupied with thoughts of her father, although a part of him hoped that she was thinking about him, as well. He kept his eyes on his tepid coffee, not wanting to pressure her, letting his mind wander. When at last she spoke, he was surprised that she didn't immediately talk of her father.

"Why didn't you just…just tell them about Kennedy?" she asked quietly. His heart beat a little faster, reading the volumes of her agonizing worry between the hesitant words.

"You know, I needed to give you time to find me." Booth cleared his throat, a little uneasy with this line of questioning. If she asked why he had been so sure that she would find him, they'd be headed into dangerous territory. "I've been tortured worse."

He cast around for a safer topic of discussion, and came back to her father.

"So, uh, you hear anything from your old man?" He willed her towards talking of things that he could focus on without getting flustered. Her father was a good choice, for while she had been worried about Booth, they were no strangers to peril. But her relationship with her father was new and surely confusing.

Booth watched her reach into her bag and pull out a piece of paper bearing her father's writing, dropping it to the table. On top of it she set a delicate glass dolphin. The dolphin was beautiful, its curves speaking of the sea, and Booth was pleased that her father had left her something so meaningful. He knew that she had too few memories of her family, and that those she did have, she guarded fiercely. Picking up the dolphin, tilting it in the light, he watched how the glass took on the yellow color of the paper and the dark blue of the tabletop. He set it down quickly, feeling vaguely as if he had been caught rummaging through her personal things.

"He left my car in the garage," she explained.

Booth nodded in acknowledgment and picked up the note. Max still wanted to talk to his daughter. He and Max were too alike, something that Brennan had yet to see. Both cared for her deeply, both refused to give up on her, neither would hesitate to kill to protect her.

Brennan's life had been in Booth's hands more times than he cared to count. Sometimes more than she even knew. His heart raced and he felt nauseated whenever he thought of something happening to her, and he was always overwhelmed with the urge to pull her close in what he envisioned being a decidedly non-guy hug.

But he couldn't, not yet. Their work was too dangerous, and even if he were willing to take that risk, he knew that she wasn't able to give him her heart. Not yet. He had hinted to her before, tried to let her know what he thought they were moving towards. _Everything happens eventually_, he had told her. _All this stuff that you think never happens, it happens. You've just got to be ready for it. _And he still meant it.

Booth looked up, smiling at his partner.

"He'll be back."

"How do you know?" He could hear the hope in her voice and his heart nearly broke for her. She had experienced more pain and loss than most, and he couldn't give her the comfort she truly needed.

Picking up the dolphin again, he wondered why she had brought it along. Temperance Brennan was a private person and didn't share her life with just anyone. Although, she seemed to trust him with these treasures of hers. It was almost as if this was her way of making progress with him. If she couldn't surrender herself to him yet, she could at least share these possessions with him, these shards of her heart. He thought back to the silver dolphin Max had left on his wife's grave, how smooth it had felt to his fingers. The earring that had once belonged to her mother, dangling from his fingers, and the look on Brennan's face when she saw it.

"Max Keenan does not strike me as the kind of guy who, uh, leaves things undone," he smiled at her.

Booth twirled the dolphin around in his fingers as he spoke, and for a moment, it was almost as if his lovely partner was in his arms. And he knew that Brennan's sharing of these pieces of herself was her way of asking him to wait for her.

"Next time he shows up, what do I do? Do I call you, do I knock him on the head? What's my obligation?"

"Well, if I were you, Bones, I'd want to know what he has to tell you about your mother," he advised, wincing slightly as he set down the graceful figurine. "But, uh, that's just me."

Brennan tilted her head down and a light flush reddened her cheeks. Feeling the corners of his mouth turning up, Booth covered the grin by taking a sip of coffee. She was so damn charming when she was embarrassed.

"There's, uh, this old song. It's called 'Keep on Trying'."

He chuckled, setting down his coffee cup. "Yeah, Poco."

"You know it?" she asked, surprise evident in her voice.

Booth paused for a moment, debating. Well, a partnership was give and take, right? If she could give of herself, then he could give her this.

His voice was almost a whisper as he sang, "I've been drinking now, just a little too much…"

She joined in on the last word, her voice clear and pure, surprising him with her boldness. Just when he thought she couldn't shock him anymore, when he thought he couldn't love her any more than he already did, she did something totally unexpected, something so totally captivating like this.

"And I don't know how I can get in touch with you," Brennan continued, and he forced himself to sing along through the thickness he felt in his throat.

They both chuckled at the absurdity and strange pleasure of singing in their diner, in the midst of a room full of strangers.

"And there's only one thing for me to do, to keep on trying to get home to you…" they finished, smiling just a little shyly at each other.

Booth struggled with the words of what he really wanted to say to her, struggled to tell her of the feeling welling in his chest. After she had just opened herself enough to sing in front of him, surely now must be the time. It would be such a relief to just tell her how much he wanted her. But other words flowed from his lips, and in a distant part of his mind, he knew it was too soon to say what he meant.

"Yeah, what about it?" he asked. His mouth felt dry, parched from the heat of all the words he had not spoken.

"It's a good old song, right?" she raised her eyebrows at him, and he got the distinct feeling that those were not the words she had truly meant, either.

Not yet.

He smiled at her, and nodded. "Right."


End file.
